Ramage glanced at her and stared at an ankle showing below the hem of her dress. "I'll wager ten guineas to an empty bottle you stamp your foot!"

"Oh, you are a beast! Read the letter!"

"I know what it says, so there's no hurry."

"What does it say, then?"

"The Master and Committee of Lloyd's request the pleasure of our company at a dinner being given to some visiting bashaw, and we are not going all the way to London for that!"

He sat down and picked up the letter. A couple of minutes later, after he was obviously beginning to read it a third time, Sarah said ominously: "Well?"

"Well, it's not for some bashaw after all," Ramage said lamely. "It's a dinner, though."

"For whom?"

"Me, actually," Ramage said, his voice a mixture of puzzlement and modesty.

"Nicholas!" Sarah, now completely intrigued, was also impatient and on the verge of losing her temper. "Nicholas, what's it all about?"

"I'll read it out, darling. It's addressed from the 'Merchant Seaman's Office' and is dated the beginning of last week - the same day we left London to come down here. A Monday, wasn't it?"

"Darling, what does it matter?" Sarah demanded.

"It was Tuesday, actually, but as you say, it doesn't matter. Well, it's headed, 'At a meeting of the Committee for Encouraging the Capture of French privateers, armed vessels & c, Rawson Aislabie esquire in the Chair'. . . Then there's a break and a sort of heading before it goes on with the point of it all."

"You're teasing me," Sarah said crossly. "You wait until tonight; I'll pay you back!"

"No," Ramage protested, "it's damned difficult reading this sort of thing; it's not a continuous paragraph. Anyway, 'Resolved' - that's the Committee resolving, you realize -"

"Oh, I thought it would be the French privateer captains: oh, do go on, Nicholas!"

"Yes, well, they resolved 'That Captain the Lord Ramage of His Majesty's ship Calypso be requested by this Committee to accept a sword, value one hundred guineas, in acknowledgement of his very gallant behaviour in the destruction of two French frigates and the capture of two more, along with seven merchant ships, in the action off Diamond Rock; and in testimony of the high sense this Committee entertains of the protection he has thereby afforded to the commerce of Great Britain.'

"There's a covering letter explaining about the resolution and asking me to suggest a date," he added. "And it says I can also bring any of my officers present at the action as my guests."

Sarah was puzzled. She accepted the reference to the sword as though her husband deserved a dozen, but when had it happened?

"That was before - why, before you came down to Isla Trinidade and we first met. Two French frigates taken? And you destroyed two more? Is that when you captured the Calypso?"

A bewildered Ramage nodded. "Southwick and the rest of them usually refer to it as 'The Diamond Rock Affair'. It's taken Lloyd's long enough to make up their minds!"

"You're hardly ever in England," Sarah pointed out. "No sooner are you home than you sail again. Then you spent that brief peace marrying me and honeymooning. Then we were captured and you escaped and went to Devil's Island when war broke out again . . . Then you went off to the Mediterranean, and we've only just returned from there, with all those unlikely people you rescued, including me. So the Committee of Lloyd's haven't had much time . . ."

She stared at the log on the fire which was now beginning to sizzle and flare. "You'll wear uniform. I have that white dress. I wonder if your mother would lend me the pearls?"

Ramage laughed. "And the tiara too! She hates wearing it."

Sarah suddenly looked embarrassed. "I forgot! Of course, she'll want to wear the pearls. I'll wear my emeralds."

"What about me?" Ramage grumbled. "I have an enormous problem, and all you think of is pearls and tiaras."

Sarah, distressed, said quickly: "What problem, darling? What's the matter?"

"Do I wear a sword to the dinner? - it is correct uniform. But what do I do with the old sword while they present me with the new one, 'Value one hundred guineas'? I can't stand up there wearing one sword and holding another in my hand: I'll look like a sword cutler plying for business!"

"Your father will know," Sarah said. "Anyway, I can always hold your regular one while you march up to collect the new one."

"It's all such a fuss," Ramage grumbled. "Pity I can't ask them to send me a hundred guineas, and I'll use it to buy you some new jewellery!"

"Clothes perhaps," Sarah said laughing, "but not jewellery. I inherit a quantity from my mother, and I expect your mother will . . ."

"So in a few years' time you'll be tottering under the weight of Rockley and Ramage jewellery. Me? I'll just have a hundred guinea sword to hang on the wall ..."

"At least you won't have to spend your prize money buying me shiny baubles. You'll be able to pay a cutler to keep your sword sharp! Anyway, you must write and tell the Committee when you can go to London. And your officers," she reminded him. "Southwick will enjoy this as much as you. He thinks of you as a son."

"Grandson," Ramage corrected, "but in fact if anyone deserves a sword from Lloyd's, it's Southwick."

"I seem to remember he has a sword of his own the size of an oar. It's big enough for Father Time to use as a scythe!"

"And that's just how he uses it. He whirls it round his head, bellows like a bull, and charges along a French ship's deck. The bellow paralyses 'em with fear and the blade slices 'em in half."

Sarah shuddered and then said: "Yet he always puts me in mind of an old bishop: the kindly round face and all that flowing white hair."

"Like a mop drying in the wind!"

"Yes, but it looks very distinguished. Think of his sword as a crozier, and he has a very rich voice: I can just imagine him in a pulpit preaching to his flock."

"Tell that to Paolo Orsini! The poor boy still makes silly mistakes working out sights, and Southwick still hollers at him. I'm sure Paolo would reckon that by comparison a bull's bellow would sound like music!"

"Apart from Southwick, which of your present officers were with you at Diamond Rock?"

Ramage's brow furrowed. Diamond Rock ... so much had happened since. Sarah, for instance. Diamond Rock was long before they had met and were married. Yet already he found it hard to remember a time when he was not married to this tawny-haired woman whose body made those Greek statues seem clumsy, whose sense of humour kept them both laughing, and who understood his moods almost better than he did himself.

"There's Southwick, and young Paolo," she reminded him.

"Yes, and Aitken. Wagstaffe was there, but he's gone to another ship. Rennick, of course: one can't forget the Marines! And Bowen, the surgeon. Two of the lieutenants were Baker and Lacy: good youngsters, but neither with me now."

Sarah was keeping a check as Ramage did little more than reminisce. "So you must write to Aitken, Southwick, Rennick and Bowen and Orsini. Well, I know all of them well enough. Any others?"

Ramage shook his head. "No, my present three other lieutenants all joined the Calypso long after the Diamond business ..."

"Very well, that's five of them you have to write to. And the Committee of Lloyd's. And your parents - they'll be excited. Do you think I could bring my parents? They'd be so proud."

"Proud? I'm sure the Committee of Lloyd's would be proud to have the Marquis of Rockley and his wife present at their dinner. He must be one of the most powerful men in Parliament, and I'm sure Lloyd's always likes to have friends there!"

"Well, they're getting good value with your father," Sarah pointed out. "He may not have the Admiralty in his pocket, but the new First Lord listens very attentively when he speaks, and that would be a help to Lloyd's."